


Loaded Gun

by mynamedoesntmatter



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, I haven't watched season 2 so please don't spoil me maybe?, Mild Blood, Multi, it's pretty dumb Wesley didn't have a fancy suit like the others, like it makes no sense?, rewriting the end of s1 ep 11 and the beginning of s1 ep12
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-08 16:58:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11650860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mynamedoesntmatter/pseuds/mynamedoesntmatter
Summary: A rewriting of s1 ep11/ep12 because it didn't make a lot of sense. Also this ot3 is gold.





	Loaded Gun

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my friends that let me watch season 1 with them because I don't have Netflix ;)

"Do you really think I'd leave a loaded gun on the table where you could reach it?" Wesley smirked, watching the panicked girl try and figure out if he was serious or not. He shifted just slightly and she cocked the gun.

"Do you really think this is the first time I've shot someone?" She announced in a weak attempt to scare him. Wesley just sat there, relaxed and smirking. She pulled the trigger.

The bullet shot out of the barrel connecting directly with Wesley's suit before ricocheting off to another direction. Wesley's smirk grew as he took her moment of shock to pounce forward grabbing the base of the gun and trying to rip it out of her hands. It wasn't the smartest move, but when it came down to it, fighting wasn't Wesley's strong suit the way calm intellect was. He managed to gain control of the gun, but not before the pest of a girl managed to pull the trigger a second time. The shot knocked him away from her. Wesley struggled to push himself up off the ground, lamely trying to aim the gun at the back of the retreating girl before dropping his hand as she disappeared around the corner.

"Mr. Fisk will not be pleased," Wesley commented to the broken table and the blood splattered gun he still gripped tightly in his hands.

 

His phone once again began ringing. Messy red coated fingers smeared across the screen as the call was answered.

 

"Sir," He managed in a quiet voice.

"Wesley," Fisk responds, waiting for the other man to tell him where he is and what he's been up to just like normal. Normalcy, that's what Fisk wants now that everything seems to be rather upside-down. 

The other line is eerily quiet.

"Wesley?" Fisk asks this time, feeling paranoia creeping up on him.

On the other end of the phone Wesley tried his best to muffle a cough with the sleeve of his shirt. Blinking dizzily at his sleeve trying to remember if it had been tinted red before. His mouth tasted like iron.

"Wesley. Your location. Now." Fisk demanded, phone gripped tight.

"49th and 11th," Wesley responded automatically obeying.

"I'm sending Francis," Fisk told him. Wesley hummed in agreement as he listened to the background sounds of the hospital and the rustle of fabric as Fisk moved to the door and began conversing with Francis. The sounds started drifting together and before he knew it the world had gone dark; his hand still around the phone that had dropped to the ground.

\----

He came too without realizing he’d been unconscious, but when his eyes shot open the white ceiling warned him that he'd lost time. He became aware of quiet talking nearby and he pushed himself up to assess the situation letting out a growl to suppress the groan of pain that threatened to make itself heard. The voices, Fisk and Vanessa he realized, quieted and before he could so much as blink Fisk stood and made careful, calculated strides to his bedside. Fisk roughly pushed Wesley back down on the bed. Wesley flinched, but kept quiet; he knew the gesture wasn’t unkind.

"Wesley," Fisk began, Wesley looked up at his employer waiting for a command, or perhaps in this situation, waiting to be reprimanded. Fisk looked down at his right hand and best informant as well as, if he dared to admit it, his best friend, “Who harmed you?” Wesley blinked slowly, surprised that that was the first thing he wanted to know. Wesley cleared his throat.

“Karen Page,” His voice was rough and it hurt a bit to speak, but he would do anything for Fisk.

“I thought Ms. Page wasn’t an issue anymore,” Fisk looked down at him, Wesley couldn’t make out the gleam in his eye from the position they were in, but he doubted he was happy.

“As did I, however, she’s been snooping around,” He took a second to breath, something that shouldn’t be as hard as it was, “Your mother called,” He managed to say before he broke away to cough. A moment later, after he slowly settled back down on the bed, he noticed the angry glint in his employer’s eyes. Expecting to be the target of Fisk’s anger, he was surprised when a glass of water was forced into his hands.

“I’m going to tell the doctor that you’re both awake, I will be back shortly,” Fisk told him in a commanding tone. Wesley gave him a short nod and an agreeable hum.  
Wesley stared up at the ceiling as he heard the door click shut. The sheets from the other bed rustled and turned to see Vanessa watching him.

“He was worried about you,” Vanessa stated, expression unreadable from a few feet away. Wesley sat up a little, holding onto the glass of water with two hands and staring down at it as if trying to see his reflection.

“I would be inconvenient to replace,” Wesley offered, bringing the glass up to his lips and letting the cold water soothe his throat.

“He loves you,” She replied. Wesley almost froze, but instead he just lowered the glass onto the bedside table.

“He loves you,” Wesley reminded her.

“That doesn’t change what I said,” She told him, turning carefully away from him so that she could stare at the ceiling. Wesley hummed to pacify her, reaching for the pocket where he kept his phone.

His hand slid past thin material and he looked down, just then noticing the hospital gown.

“If you’re looking for your phone, Wilson took it,” Came Vanessa’s quiet reply from across the room. He could practically hear the smirk in her voice when she continued, “Good luck getting it back anytime soon.”


End file.
